


A Little Downtime

by keirajo



Series: The Love of Romance [14]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Angst, Drama, Friendship, Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-06 09:17:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20504585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keirajo/pseuds/keirajo
Summary: In the aftermath of a virus that affected the crew in many, various ways...…...those on the Lost Light are trying to get back to normal, whatever that may be.   However, Rodimus despairs that his friendship with Ultra Magnus may never be the same.





	A Little Downtime

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to post this three times yesterday, but my internet kept timing me out...……..sad to think the wi-fi at work is better than Verizon's wireless service. :<
> 
> I should start writing down my summaries, my first summary was the best, but as I got more and more frustrated with the timing outs trying to post this, I think the summary lost something...……….

** _ A Little Downtime _ **

Rodimus felt very drowsy, cuddling against Megatron as his older lover was telling him a story from the old days of Cybertron. It felt like it had been such a long time since they’d had some quality time together to cuddle and just enjoy each other’s company. The flame-colored mech’s attention was completely wavering and he was slipping towards recharge rather quickly. Megatron’s deep voice was soft and soothing as he told the story of a time long ago, during the Golden Age of Cybertron. Even before Megatron was created and the war began. Before the Council of Primes headed down their dark path and the senate followed.

All of the sudden, something Megatron said about one of the characters in the story, made the flame-colored mech come to full attention.

“_Mmmmm_……..is that Magnus?” Rodimus murmured, turning in his older lover’s arms to look up into his optics.

“That’s before Tyrest had the idea of the archetypical hero and continuing the original Ultra Magnus’ legacy, Rodimus,” Megatron said, stopping where he was in the story to answer the question, kissing Rodimus’ forehead lightly.

Rodimus shook himself fully awake now. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. It’s just………..that guy in your story sounds _a lot_ like Ultra Magnus. I mean……….I guess I’ve known **_two_** different ones in my lifetime, now, but………you know?” The younger mech said, reaching up to rub his helm with a bit of puzzlement. “I like Minimus Ambus as Magnus, though—he’s so serious and fun to tease, but he’s a very honest mech. I didn’t know the previous one, just had a couple of interactions with him, he always felt a bit angry to me,” Rodimus added, softly.

“I suppose the previous one had been in the armour for a while and had seen a good portion of the war, he may have been very tired of it,” Megatron said. “Have you had a chance to speak with Ultra Magnus since the virus incident?” The former Decepticon asked, setting down his datapad and wrapping both arms around his younger lover.

“_No_. I knocked on his door once and he didn’t answer, but Drift said he’d seen Magnus down at Swerve’s,” Rodimus answered. “So…………maybe he’s just avoiding **_me_**, given what happened,” the flame-colored mech sighed, curling against Megatron closely.

“I haven’t been able to speak with him, either, but our schedules have been conflicting anyways,” the grey-colored mech said with a deep sigh. “He might also want to avoid me, as well. I’m not upset at what happened—I _know_ what’s in your Spark, Rodimus,” Megatron added, nuzzling the top of his younger lover’s helm.

“I like Magnus, too……….but it’s a _different kind of like_, you know? Maybe………given a different turn out of things…………you know, maybe I’d’ve chosen **_him _**once,” Rodimus sighed, shifting his frame to curl more comfortably in Megatron’s lap. “I guess………..maybe he might’ve chosen me, too, if he had maybe relaxed himself a little more.”

“I think the viral outbreak showed a little of our truths, deep within ourselves. I used to be a lot less confident than I am now………Terminus was the one who brought out my best, I honestly wanted to stay in the shadows and just keep writing poetry,” Megatron murmured, sliding one servo to Rodimus’ hip and rubbing the other lightly on the younger mech’s back.

“I think maybe we all would like to be a bit more free than we are in our daily lives,” the flame-colored mech murmured. “Maybe I’ll try to talk to Magnus again, tomorrow. I don’t want him to feel weird or uncomfortable around me, _I really don’t_. He’s my friend……….” the young Autobot sighed softly.

“_Mmmmm_,” Megatron said, softly, nuzzling the top of his young lover’s helm. Then his servos began to roam in a bit more intimate manner on the flame-colored mech’s frame, tips skimming across microseams. Rodimus shifted his frame again, so Megatron’s servos could find even better spots to caress. The older mech’s head tilted and he began to stroke his glossa lightly over the flame-colored mech’s neck-cabling, skimming his denta lightly over the sensitive metal and nibbling gently.

Rodimus whimpered and moaned, his frame trembling and starting to heat up with desire. His arms reached around Megaton’s neck and he stroked the tops of the tread-guards, his palms pressing hard against the metal as charge rushed through his body. A familiar tightness began in his groin, making him ache with want and lust.

**/wantwantNEEDwant\**

Megatron felt the emotions swirling around in Rodimus’ EM field and he pushed his own field out to surround and press against his younger lover’s.

**/lovewant\**

Rodimus mewled gently as he felt the soft emotions from Megatron swirl around him. The grey-colored mech leaned in and gently pressed his lips to the younger mech’s, then slid his glossa through and swiped it around his lover’s mouth luxuriantly. The flame-colored mech whimpered and mewled some more, his fingers clutching at the edges of the tread-guards. His sounds were muffled with Megatron’s mouth covering his, the eager moaning swallowed by wet kisses and thick glossa swipes.

Eventually Megatron pulled his faceplate back and rested his forehead gently against Rodimus’.

“Here or berth, my lovely flame?” The deep, familiar voice purred softly.

“_Hunh? Whaaa……?_” Rodimus mumbled, shaking his head absently.

“The kiss was _that good_, my love?” The former Decepticon chuckled, pressing a kiss lightly to the flame-colored mech’s forehead.

“**_Yoooooouuuuuuuu_**……….” the flame-colored mech trailed off, laughing softly. “_Berth_. I enjoy the berth, you pervy oldmech,” he teased, lightly, gently kissing Megatron on the lips.

“I just thought I’d ask,” Megatron responded, grinning at the younger mech eagerly. He adjusted his hold on Rodimus, to scoop him into his arms as he swung legs over the edge of the couch. It was a little bit of a struggle to get up from the low couch, still holding onto Rodimus, but he managed and walked them over to the berth.

As soon as Megatron laid his younger lover down on the berth, he leaned over the mech and kissed him some more, a servo drifting down to the flame-colored mech’s groinplating. He began caressing the warm plating gently as he slid his glossa back into Rodimus’ mouth for more heated kissing. Megatron felt dampness starting to leak from the microseams around the array paneling and tapped it lightly with his digits, to entice Rodimus to open his array now.

That was something the flame-colored mech did actually understand and his array panels slid open a little too eagerly. His spike pressurized with a soft hiss and Rodimus gave a low little moan as Megatron’s digits rubbed lightly along the edges of his damp valve lips. Megatron broke their kiss and rained lighter kisses all along Rodimus’ faceplate tenderly.

“I love you, my brilliant flame,” the former Decepticon Leader murmured.

“Yeah, me too,” Rodimus whispered, his faceplate tinted a bright pink with his arousal and embarrassment. “Can you……..**_um_**…….do _that_ a bit more?” He asked, highly embarrassed to ask such a request of his lover, even though he knew Megatron would very eagerly grant it.

“Do what?” The grey-colored mech inquired, planting a light kiss in the center of Rodimus’ forehead, above the nasal ridge.

“_Gah_, do I **_really_** have to say it out loud?” The flame-colored mech complained. “_The thing_ you’re doing with your servo down there. I like it, _it feels nice_.”

“If you could honestly say what you want without embarrassment, it might go a long way to helping your shyness in interfacing, you know?” Megatron chuckled, rubbing his digits lightly along the damp valve lips of his younger partner some more.

“Doubt it,” Rodimus chuckled, reaching up a servo and clasping the back of the grey-colored mech’s neck. “Maybe if all my experience had been _good ones_ all my life, I wouldn’t be such a spazz when it comes to all this. But you’re really good and you care about me and care about making me feel good,” he murmured softly, smiling up at his older lover very fondly.

“Indeed I do,” Megatron responded, reaching down and kissing his lover’s forehead again. Then after rubbing his digits a few more times around Rodimus’ valve entrance, he let them drift up and press lightly against the swollen anterior node. Rodimus gave a sharp whimper and arched his back, the servo on the back of Megatron’s neck tightened its grip. “How does _that_ feel?” He murmured, licking the flame-colored mech’s lips before giving them a light peck.

“Good. _Mmmmm_, yeah, **_really good_**……….getting _heated up_ inside………” the younger mech gasped. “**_Nnnnnngh_**_, hotter………and hotter…………_” he panted sharply as Megatron’s digits swiped and pressed and pinched the swollen node.

“You are _definitely_ very hot, my lovely little flame,” Megatron purred, nuzzling Rodimus’ bared neck and nibbling lightly on his neck-cabling. He allowed his servo to move back down and this time instead of sweeping his digits along the entrance of the valve, he sank two digits deeply inside the warm wetness. Rodimus gave a Spark-wrenching whimper and arched his back again, his grip on Megatron’s neck tightening once more. Megatron began to move his fingers in and out of the lubricated warmth, sometimes quickening the pace and sometimes moving them so agonizingly slowly.

Rodimus’ head stopped all coherent thought and he reached down his free servo to begin stroking his spike with ragged little jerks of his wrist. He felt like he was climbing a great peak and all he wanted to do was get to the top and slide down the other side. Megatron watched his lover moan and whimper, arching his back more and more as he strove to reach his overload—so, he helped out with that a little more, adding a third digit into the clenching valve and thrust a bit harder and a bit faster with his servo.

It was beautiful when the flame-colored mech finally overloaded, pale yellow lightning zipped over the slender frame, grounding out in the valve and other dermal areas with charge receptors waiting. Silvery transfluid shot out and gleamed in a chaotic splash on the yellow chestplate armour and red dermal abdominal area. Megatron watched, licking his lips and felt his own arousal intensify when Rodimus’ valve clamped down hard on his fingers and pulsed with overload. He listened to his younger lover’s engines roar rapidly and then slowly settle as cooling fans made soft purring sounds inside Rodimus’ systems.

“You’re _too much_, you pervy oldmech,” Rodimus murmured, a bit dazed, and his arms falling limply to his sides. “But I feel **_so good_** right now, you can do whatever the hell you want to me and I don’t think I’d know if it’s good, bad or awful!” He chuckled, his optics looking up into Megatron’s own.

“I feel like I’d lose my reputation if I were bad or awful—_so, I better damn well be good_,” the grey-colored mech laughed, climbing up onto the berth and straddling his younger lover’s lower frame. He gently cupped Rodimus’ hips and lifted them a little bit off the cushion of the berth, then he rocked his hips forwards to rub his thick spike into the plush lips of the wet valve, rubbing slowly and getting plenty of overload-induced lubricant all over his swollen organ.

“_Damn_………..your spike feels just as good as your fingers, rubbing me like that,” Rodimus moaned, deeply, offlining his optics to focus solely on the sensations of a climb to another overload.

“Would you like me to do this a little bit longer, then?” Megatron chuckled, gazing fondly down at his lover’s lightly trembling frame. He could see the limp spike beginning to pressurize again, the red biolighting on the transfluid pressure line started to pulse, at first slowly and then more rapidly as Rodimus started reaching higher arousal.

“_Yeah_, but **_no_**………please frag me, Megs, I really………..**_really_**……….want you to frag me!” Rodimus pleaded, his arms reaching up, as if to beg for an embrace.

Megatron’s Spark spun more rapidly in his chest, he was so very lucky to wind up with someone as wonderful and as beautiful as Rodimus of Nyon. He smiled and took his own optics offline as he slid his spike into the tight and pulsing valve—relishing the sensations of lovemaking and absorbing the love in the younger mech’s field, plus the cries and moans of the flame-colored mech as overload approached for them both, drowning in the pleasure of it all.

* * * * *

Rodimus approached Ultra Magnus’ hab suite and felt for the familiar EM field first, before rapping on the door. He felt the powerful old Autobot’s EM field in there—even as tamed down and neutral as it was. So, the flame-colored mech incycled and exvented a couple of times to calm himself down, as Drift had taught him to do, then he rapped his servo on the door.

“Hey, Ultra Magnus—can we talk?” Rodimus said, making sure his voice was loud enough to carry through the door. He paused and waited for an answer……..

_And waited………._

**_And waited some more……….._**

“Magnus? Can we talk?” Rodimus said, again, rapping on the door with his yellow servo once more.

There was still no response.

Rodimus planted his servos on the door and slid down to his knees. “Dammit, Magnus………._why_ can’t we talk? I mean, I **_know_** you’re here and…………_I just want to talk_, you know? Like we’re friends, like we’re supposed to be **_friends_**……….._but_………..” the young, flame-colored mech cried, softly. “_Please, Magnus_……….let’s talk about this, okay? It’s _so awkward_, like you………..**_oh Primus_**. _You hate me_. That’s it, isn’t it………._oh_.”

Rodimus flopped back onto his back as the sudden realization hit him. It was the only real and rational reason Ultra Magnus had for avoiding him. If it were mere awkwardness, **_that_** could be talked out………..but if Ultra Magnus _actually hated_ him for what happened, if that were why the older mech was avoiding him and everything…………..that explained it all.

_That line had finally been crossed._

Rodimus felt his Spark start to spin slower in his chest and he offlined his optics, feeling a great sadness flow through his circuits and frame.

“Rodimus, what are you doing here?” A familiar voice said, quietly, as a familiar field came near and some presence knelt beside him.

“_Ultra Magnus hates me, Drift_,” Rodimus whispered, a great ache in his voice. “It has to be the reason why he won’t talk to me…………..anything else, he’d chew me out, lecture me or whatever for being dumb and reckless. But…………he _has to_ hate me, then,” the flame-colored mech sighed.

“Rodimus, I’m sure Ultra Magnus doesn’t hate you—this whole virus thing hit him pretty hard. It hit a lot of us hard. Come on, get up—let’s go do some meditation, all right?” Drift said with a soft little sigh of resignation. He placed his servos below Rodimus’ shoulders and gently hefted him up, helping him get to his pedes.

They walked back to Drift and Ratchet’s hab suite and the old medic was reclining in a chair, reading a datapad designed for novels.

“_Tch_, if you were bringing company, you should’ve warned me,” Ratchet grumbled, shifting in his chair and going back to his book.

“We’re just going to meditate a little, Ratty,” Drift chuckled, walking over and giving his lover a light kiss on the top of his helm.

“You doing okay, Ratchet?” Rodimus asked, softly, ignoring Drift lightly tugging on his arm as he walked over to the old Autobot medic.

“I’m fine, kid. _You_ hanging in there?” The white-and-red mech asked, looking up at the flame-colored one.

“Mags hates me, but I’m okay I guess,” the younger mech sighed, shaking his head.

“_Aww, kid_—Ultra Magnus doesn’t hate you. He’s not that kind of mech, none of them were,” Ratchet responded. “But the Ambus lineage has always had this stoic pride and that’s making it difficult for this one to get past what the virus put him through. Give him some time.”

Rodimus merely sighed and went to follow Drift to the large space in the corner of the hab suite. It had a decorative rug that the former Decepticon soldier had gotten on some planet, the woven patterns were eye-catching and meditative. There were also particularly-colored cup lights set into the four ways and five paths at the heart of Spectralist meditation around the edges of the rug.

Drift went and sat down, folding his legs and resting his elbow-joints on his knee-joints, placing his digits tip-to-tip against each other. He gave a light nod to the space next to him for Rodimus to do the same. The flame-colored mech exvented a heavy sigh and settled down next to his friend. He crossed his legs and rested his elbow-joints on his knee-joints, just like Drift, steepling his servos together.

“_Rhythm. Incycle and exvent, lightly-lightly_,” Drift murmured, going through the motions and offlining his optics to clear his sensors of distracting visual data.

Rodimus began to follow the rhythm and offlined his optics like Drift had done. He let the rhythm and tone of his best friend’s voice lull him into a calm state and began to settle down. Finally, after he relaxed, he exvented softly and leaned against Drift, falling into a light recharge. Drift smiled and leaned his head down against Rodimus’, letting his friend get some honest rest that he really needed right now.

* * * * *

Rodimus was on the bridge shift when Thunderclash’s shuttle finally returned. The old Autobot hero and a small diplomatic crew had been off the ship during the incident with the virus—they’d left during the shore leave on Zetter—to meet with some Galactic Alliance representatives on a small planetoid embassy called Healiaca.

“You’re cleared to land, Thunderclash, however **_don’t_** leave the shuttle bay until Velocity and First Aid come down to do a full de-con scan and inoculation,” Rodimus said, via the intercom system. “We had an incident while you were gone and you’ll have a fun report to read when you return to duty.”

After Thunderclash laughed and acknowledged that, Rodimus leaned back in the captain’s chair to finish reading the duty shift report from Megatron. At least with Thunderclash back, the captain’s duty shifts would be a little more evenly divided with shorter shifts divided among four individuals. _In case……….**just in case**………_

“**_Nggghhh_**,” Rodimus grunted softly, rubbing his forehead soothingly. _What if Ultra Magnus didn’t want to come back to administrative duty?_ Everything had been going **_so well_**, everyone was **_so happy_**. They’d joined this universe’s Galactic Alliance and gained both protection and allies. **_He and Megatron had Spark-bonded!_** “I _never_ get a chance for anything good. **_Ugh_**,” he muttered in such a low tone nobody else on the bridge heard what he actually said, just that he said something.

He went back to finishing reading Megatron’s report when Thunderclash finally made his way to the bridge.

“They told me what happened, it sounds like it was rough, but everyone’s all right?” The old Autobot hero asked, standing next to the captain’s chair.

“Alive. Embarrassed. Take your pick,” Rodimus sighed, finishing reading Megatron’s report and then handed the duty report to Thunderclash. “Megatron and I will work on slotting you in for bridge duty, if that’s all right with you?” He asked softly.

“_It’s fine_. It should ease some of the stress,” Thunderclash responded, optics started scanning the report. “I’ll compose a full report of our meeting with the Galactic Alliance’s Ranger Patrol and security branch. They’re working on getting us a full layout of the territories, friendly worlds and unfriendly worlds. All of that stuff.”

Thunderclash could feel a bit of sadness and distress low in Rodimus’ EM field. The younger mech wasn’t projecting anything in his field, but the older Autobot had been around many mechs and femmes in his lifetime to pick up on their more subtle emotions. That was why he had been able to figure out that Rodimus had the medical dermal sensor net and kept his own field held pretty tightly anywhere around the flame-colored mech.

“Is there something bothering you?” Thunderclash asked softly.

“_Heh_, well yeah………but it’s nothing you can help me with, Thunderclash,” Rodimus said, turning a wry smile up at the Autobot hero. “Thanks for being concerned, though. It’s just more bizarre stuff aboard the _Lost Light_, as usual.”

“Would you like me to take over for you on the bridge, while you go to get some rest? I’ve gotten plenty of Energon and recharge,” Thunderclash asked, his deep voice kind and warm.

Rodimus wanted to argue and say he should stay and take his bridge shift properly, but he really _didn’t _feel like it at all. He felt pretty miserable, even though he wasn’t actually tired at all. He really wanted to get off the bridge and go down to the medi-bay, because he always felt better down in the medi-bay.

“Is it really okay? Drift has the next shift in four hours, is that okay?” Rodimus asked, standing up and stretching.

“I can handle it, Rodimus, _don’t worry_. Go somewhere and try to relax,” the colorful Autobot said, a warm smile touching his lips. He sat down in the captain’s chair and waved the flame-colored mech away.

“Thanks, Thunderclash, _I owe you one_!” The younger Autobot chuckled, practically running off the bridge. He walked very fast and was in the medi-bay quickly.

The assistant droids were puttering about with supplies, while Velocity watched and directed them on where to go. She gasped in surprise and strode over to Rodimus quickly.

“Are you all right? Is there something wrong?” The teal-and-white femme asked, worry in the tone of her voice.

“I’m okay. Thunderclash asked to relieve me on the bridge. I’m just having a pretty mopey day,” Rodimus sighed. “Megs is napping, so I don’t want to bother him. I usually feel better down here in the medi-bay, so I came down here.”

Velocity smiled fondly at him. “Wanna help me do inventory? The droids are a bit slower at it and First Aid gave most of the staff downtime after we did de-con on Thunderclash and the others,” she said.

“_Yeah_. Lemme help,” Rodimus chuckled, taking a datapad from her.

The two of them, along with the assistant droids, were much faster at getting the inventory done. After they finished up, Velocity brought out a couple of cans of low-grade Energon and the two of them sat in the chairs in the main area, relaxing. That was when the medi-bay doors slid open and Minimus Ambus came in. Velocity hopped up and asked what the small mech that controlled the Magnus Armour needed. As she walked off to get the medicated Energon for him, that left a very awkward Rodimus waiting there, fidgeting quietly in his chair.

“I’m **_not_** mad at you, Rodimus,” Minimus said, his voice soft and quiet. His voice was kind of like Ultra Magnus’, just not quite as deep—likely because it was generally spoken through a separate vocalizer in the armour.

“_Um. Okay_,” the flame-colored mech answered, staring at the floor and tapping lightly on the can in his servos.

“I need more time to think about what to say to you. And probably to Megatron as well,” the small grey-and-green mech responded. “Talking to you through a doorway about this situation is incredibly awkward and not very personal.”

“_Oh,_” Rodimus murmured. That made sense, but the mech could’ve at least have answered and said “_not now_” or “_maybe later_” or something—not answering at all felt like the situation was beyond repair!

“Speaking about emotional issues is not something those of my lineage has ever been very good at. My brother was far worse than I, he spent time with a mech for centuries and _never_ said how he truly felt. Rewind deserved better than just that limited scope of companionship,” Minimus said with a deep sigh, crossing his arms across his chest. “What happened recently showed that clearly there is something you and I must speak about and I am not quite emotionally ready yet,” he added, looking at Rodimus, whose optics were still locked onto the floor at his pedes.

Minimus Ambus sighed when he saw that Rodimus was still dejected and his field, though held in, was rippling with sadness and a slight bit of despair. He walked over, and at his height, he was able to look up into Rodimus’ downturned optics. The small grey-and-green mech reached up a servo and lightly brushed fingers on the flame-colored mech’s neck-cabling.

“I’m glad I didn’t hurt you, Rodimus. If I had, if my strength had done _irreparable damage_ to you, I could never forgive myself,” the older mech said, quietly, looking up into Rodimus’ blue, glass-covered optics. “We will talk later, _I promise_—once I figure out how to say what it is I need to say.”

“_Okay_,” Rodimus murmured, quietly, reaching a servo up to brush the smaller one that had touched his neck-cabling.

“I know that Megatron has told me many times I no longer need that armour—and _perhaps_ he may be right—but it is a part of me now, it’s been a part of me for a very long time,” Minimus said, stepping back and giving the younger mech some comfort room and space between them. “To me, I feel more like Ultra Magnus than I do Minimus Ambus anymore—does _that_ sound strange to you?” He asked.

“**_No_**. _Not really_, I mean…………I spent forever trying **_not_** to be Hot Rod anymore, because Hot Rod destroyed every single thing he loved in Nyon,” the flame-colored mech said, quietly. “Hot Rod just brings back a lot of memories I’d rather not call mine anymore.”

“Good, then you _do_ understand,” Minimus chuckled, the tone in his voice sounding fond and kind—unusual for the mech that Rodimus had only known as Ultra Magnus until recent years revealed the secret in the armour. “Well, apparently my emotional distress has locked me out of most functions of the armour again. And I doubt that you riling me up will get me to synch properly with it again, like on Necroworld. I feel rather lost without my true personality around me and I don’t think I can talk to anyone or perform my usual duties until I’ve resolved this situation. I suppose you may say I’m embarrassed.”

“Can you handle it by yourself? I know we don’t have a psychiatrist on the _Lost Light_, but………” Rodimus asked, looking over at his friend with a bit of worry.

“I’ve been talking to someone about the situation and it’s been helping, I’ll get through it,” Minimus answered. “As a loadbearer, I have superior strength in this frame alone, but I am limited by my size. The Magnus Armour gives me the ability to use my full skills to their proper functions. The armour is a mere tool for me and _‘Ultra Magnus’_ is an ideal I aspire to—when we function **_together_**, the armour and I, we are the best mech possible, I believe.”

“_Yeah_. I think so, too,” Rodimus said with a big grin.

Just around that moment, Velocity returned with a can of specially medicated Energon for the small green-and-grey mech. The teal-and-white femme handed it to Minimus Ambus with a smile. “Remember, we _can’t _prescribe too many more doses of this. Perhaps only _one more_. If you still have issues sleeping or functioning properly, please come down to the medi-bay and let First Aid run a full system scan and defragmentation program on your systems,” Velocity said to the smaller and older mech.

“I understand, Velocity,” Minimus Ambus said, nodding up at her and taking the can from her. “I hope this will be the _last dose_ I need. I had been recharging normally for several days until last night, so I think I may be through the worst of the situation now.” The small green-and-grey mech gave a polite salute to both Velocity and Rodimus and then left the medi-bay.

“I think I’m going to go snuggle up with Megs now,” Rodimus said, getting to his pedes and stretching. “With Thunderclash back, I _might_ be able to get back to some medi-bay duties now—I’ll let you know after I talk it out with Megatron some more.”

“I look forward to having you back down here with us a few hours a day soon, then,” Velocity answered, waving back to Rodimus as the flame-colored mech left the medi-bay in a much better mood than he had come in with a little while ago.

**Author's Note:**

> Because the Ultra Magnus in the "other ending" of "Lost Light" #25 chose to go without the Magnus Armour and be Minimus Ambus for the rest of his life--I thought it would be interesting for this series, which chose the "adventurous ending" to continue from, to have Minimus Ambus say that he preferred his life as Ultra Magnus, because it was an undeniable part of him. :)


End file.
